The Moon's Gift
by Uniasus
Summary: When he had been asked to be a Guardian, Jack had said no for several reasons. He didn't like the Big Four, for one, or their lifestyles. He also didn't think they would like him. But when he learned about the details of Guardianship, that it was tied to belief and if it was gone so were you, he couldn't wait to take the Oath. It was a sign, a gift. He would take it with


When he had been asked to be a Guardian, Jack had said no for several reasons. He didn't like the Big Four, for one, or their lifestyles. He also didn't think they would like him.

But he was used to that.

No one liked him.

He also felt a calling to be somewhere else.

But when he learned about the details of Guardianship, that it was tied to belief and if it was gone so were you, he couldn't wait to take the Oath. It was a sign, a gift. He would take it with both hands.

* * *

"Jack, you don't look so good." Tooth fluttered at his side, fretting as she did her best to keep her hands out of his mouth.

Jack supposed her statement was putting things lightly. The last time he had looked at his reflection, his eyes had been a muted blue and the faint color to his skin had faded. He had been happy to see that, his wish would come true soon.

"I feel great, Tooth."

She didn't look as if she believed him, but Jack let that slide. After almost ten years as a Guardian, he had grown fond of all of them and them him. But it didn't change things. They weren't friends, not really. Just work buddies. People you talked to and smiled at during meetings, but not friends to call on a Friday afternoon to plan your evening.

But that was okay. He hadn't expected friends. And having ten years of interactions with people who tolerated him had been a blessing. A small bit of comfort at the end. A parting gift. Thank you for your tireless effort, here's some flowers to show our appreciation, if you don't help with the program next year that's okay we don't expect you too.

He was looking forward to not helping out next year.

Tooth flew around to peer into his face. Jack knew it to be gaunt and lined, but despite his looks he felt so happy and so close to peace.

"Come to the Palace tomorrow. Or if you don't see me, go spend time with one of the others."

Jack blinked, invitations were rare. He never followed up on them, and never would. Just because a co-worker makes an offer doesn't mean they're serious. They're being polite.

"Okay, I will."

* * *

Jack sat on a gutter, Jamie Bennett sleeping in the room below him. He was the last believer, the last one to grow up and grow too old for childish beliefs. It should be any day. Jack grew weaker all the time.

He tilted his head up and stared at the Moon above him. Becoming a Guardian, and the consequences of that, had been a gift from Kokab.

1968 he had tried to do something he thought would end it all, use up his magical core. But spirits apparently couldn't do that. The magic wouldn't let them. It was impossible to use up your magic and die. You just slept for many years, recovering.

But now, Jack had a way of doing it. It was tied to the Oath. His story hadn't spread, he made sure of that. Jamie would stop believing and Jack would stop being.

* * *

Jamie still believed. A week later, and he still smiled at the frost on the windows. Jack thought maybe he should move. Maybe something about being near the teen was keeping the belief from fading.

Jack stood and stretched, contemplating where to go. What did he have a last desire to see?

His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Sandy. While the comet was on a cloud meters above him, he had made a set of stair that ended at Jack's feet. He couldn't say no, Sandy would just follow him.

Jack flew up onto the cloud, and judging by the scrutinizing look he got Tooth had mentioned his appearance to the others. It was nice that they were a little concerned, but he knew how it went. It was like telling the man in the office next to you you're sorry to hear about the death of his mother, and then forget about how long lasting or deep that hurt is. You do your duty, say your politeness, and then go on your way.

Sandy was doing nothing more than that, miming if Jack was taking care of himself. He didn't mind.

"I'm fine Sandy, never better!" Jack laughed but the comet still insisted on him taking a nap. Jack allowed it, and dreamed of the nothingness, the peace and rest soon to come.

* * *

There was, he supposed, one place he wanted to see before he passed on finally. Jamie was at university now, and the Burgess pond was calling to him. It was where his death had been halted, and where it would continue. Jack wanted to say the symbolism of that drew him there, but he wasn't sure. All he knew was that the pond called to him, stronger than Jamie's dorm, and so he went there.

He sat in a tree for three nights, staring at the water and taking naps as he did not have the strength to do much else. His clothes were frosted, but the tree beneath him wasn't. His magic was fading. Soon, soon now.

There was the whisper of shadows and from the trees out stepped Pitch Black. He leered at Jack.

"And I thought I looked awful. You're dreadful."

"I suppose so." Weak as he was, Pitch could probably take him. Jack contemplated in engaging the spirit in a fight to the death, but didn't know if much would come out of it. Why trade a sure death for only the possibility of one?

"Are the others as bad as you?"

"No."

Pitch looked disappointed, and then thoughtful. "Just you then. Can't get any believers?" he sneered.

"I did, but I didn't want them."

Pitch, who had been walking around the tree Jack was in, paused. "You know what happens to Guardians who have no believers."

Jack looked down from the Moon to him. "Yes."

"You took the Oath, wanting this to happen."

"Yes."

"Were you that alone? Are you still now? I told you before, we could have been a team."

"I've been trying to take this course for decades, long before we first meet."

"And nothing else worked." Pitch leaned against a tree a bit off, looking at Jack. He seemed to speak from experience and Jack wondered if Pitch too had been so lonely and brushed off, believed that his existence was so meaningless it should just stop.

"No. Becoming a Guardian was a gift, so this could happen. It'll be any day."

"I'm...jealous."

Jack smiled at him, joyful even approaching death. "You'll have it too, someday."

"I have been around much longer than you, and I fear will be here for a long time after this."

"Attack someone who does not have high ideals like the Guardians. They will never give you what you want."

"They are the only ones powerful enough to."

Silence stretched between them, and then Pitch spoke again. "Do you want me to stay? You don't fear dying alone, but it is customary not to."

Jack hummed. He had a tough life, and that was part of what brought him to this place in his life. But he also felt the tug of something else. He had started dying, and his soul wanted to finish it. Staying on Earth hurt, just like no one wanting to interact with him for three hundred years had.

When his journey started, Olivia had been with him. She wasn't here now, but it felt right to not finish it alone.

"Yes, stay. And...could you help me to the water?" He gestured to the pond. It had ice along the edges, but no more.

Pitch transported himself behind Jack and then instantly they were under the surface of the water in the darkness there. Jack took a lung full of water and felt Jamie's belief disappear. There was nothing tying him here now.

He looked behind him at Pitch with a smile and than swam to the Moon.

* * *

The boy in his hands grew heavy, real, as Pitch watched the silver hair turned brown. He held in his arms nothing more than a body.

Pitch made his way to the surface and brought Jack's body with him. He laid it on the ground, not certain what to do. He didn't mourn Jack, he wished he was with him, and had no idea what to do with the body. Spirits were that, spirits. Creatures of magic and belief. They didn't usually _have_ bodies.

"Step away from him," someone growled and Pitch looked up to see Bunnymund. The spring spirit had his boomerangs out and teeth bared.

Pitch obeyed, in no condition to fight. He was weak, but not as much as Jack had been. He wasn't on death's door. The rabbit hopped forward and began an rapid assessment of Jack's condition. Despite the now mortal appearance, it was hard to not know him as Jack Frost. The clothes, bare feet, and smile on his face were the same.

"Frostbite? Jack? Come on mate, talk to me."

The fear rising was delicious, and in an effort to provoke the other spirit Pitch stated what he knew. "He's dead."

"He's not. He's still here."

"Check that Globe of yours, surely you can change it to see the believers of just one of you. Jack, as of a few minutes ago, has none.

The rabbit turned to look at Jack, horror and sadness and disbelief on his face.

Pitch wanted Bunnymund to attack him, to drive a blade into his chest. "I can't believe you didn't notice that, but then again you sense hope and Jack was so full of it I doubted you noticed anything beyond that. He was hoping for this, took the Oath years ago with this ending in mind. And none of you even noticed."

The anger Pitch wanted to see didn't come. Instead, depression did. Disappointed, Pitch left. He envied Jack's short life.

* * *

**A/N: **This...um...didn't end up how I had originally planned, but oh well. That's what usually happens. Deathling!Jack puts me in a depressing mood, and since I'm not using his POV for Reaper, I had to do something involving Jack's dark thoughts. Obviously though, this is not in the Fearlings and then Some universe.


End file.
